


Maybe, When You're Older, Part II

by ANaTHEMaDEVIsed



Series: Maybe, When You're Older [3]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, adult nursing relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:41:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23304799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ANaTHEMaDEVIsed/pseuds/ANaTHEMaDEVIsed
Summary: Alex has always soothed the emptiness.
Relationships: Alex Danvers/Kara Danvers, Alex Danvers/Kelly Olsen
Series: Maybe, When You're Older [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1674520
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	Maybe, When You're Older, Part II

**Author's Note:**

> So goes the thing in my head.
> 
> Disclaimer:
> 
> All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work belong to their respective owners. As this material is an interpretation of the original and not for profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.

Alex stumbled when her father died, for the first time in a life of sure-footedness. She’d more than adequately carried the burden Jeremiah Danvers had handed to her when she was so young. Take care of Mom. Protect Kara. Love them both. She’d have torn herself to shreds not to fail, on any day, just not that day. Jeremiah’s death meant that Alex would never lay this burden down. Never. It was hers now, and always. And she was livid. How dare he? How dare he leave her to carry all of this, all of it for so long, and far too heavy. She’d stumbled under it, the leaden comprehension that it had never been Jeremiah’s intention to relieve her of it. He had no mind, or perhaps not the heart to take it up again.

“Coward!” Alex screamed. She’d barely managed to turn into her pillow before the word erupted. It clawed its way from her throat, leaving her raw. She couldn’t cry, not when the rage took up so much space. Not a single tear could squeeze its way through. Alex had excused herself early from the wake. Suddenly the idea of drinking in front of strangers or even friends felt far too intimate. Tomorrow, neighbors would make polite visits bearing casseroles and pies. They’d stay long enough to extend their condolences sanitized by a topic or two of innocuous conversation. Weather’s been mild. County plans to pave that old 110. Eliza would offer coffee and tea, a plate of baked goods and savories proffered by well-meaning strangers. It would be an eternity of hand clasping, piteous-eyed pleasantries.

Alex felt the bed dip behind her. In the dim, evening edge of dusk seductive and beckoning, she could just make out Kara hunched in her slightly rumpled dress. Her hair had come unpinned.

“I heard you.” Kara whispered.

“I’m sorry I left.” Alex sat up, and leaned back against the headboard. She didn’t even have to prompt Kara to crawl unto the bed into waiting arms. Alex placed a kiss on Kara’s brow, lips lingering a moment.

“It’s okay.” Kara shrugged, her head snug under Alex’s chin.

“Mom and Kelly?” Alex asked.

“On their way.” Kara murmured. “Jeremiah didn’t have many friends.”

“No, I suppose he didn’t.” Alex pulled Kara a bit closer. “And we were his only family.” Kara nuzzled against the side of Alex’s breast. She’d discarded her blazer when she’d gotten to the farmhouse, tossed it over the back of the couch on the way to the kitchen. Rapidly finishing off two beers, Alex had leaned against the kitchen counter to watch the sun disappear. It had sunk behind the barn transforming the window above the kitchen sink into a masterpiece. A third beer had accompanied her upstairs and in the room where she and Kara had grown up, she had gulped down half not bothering with lights, quite ambivalent to let shadows loom up around her. She’d kicked off her shoes, shucked out of her mourning attire and into an old Midvale High Athletic Department tee. It was a bit moth eaten with a bleach stain on one sleeve. The d and the v in Midvale had worn away for the cloth had become quite delicate, soft and so thin from a thousand washings.

For Kara’s light nuzzling, the material may as well not have been there at all. There was some part compliance and some equal part invitation as Alex shifted away just enough to ease the shirt up and over her head. Kara watched a moment transfixed, teeth sliding over her bottom lip. almost but not quite biting. When Alex lay back back again, Kara flowed into her side with what now felt like familiar ease. 

Some secrets never keep, even one as short-lived as what Alex and Kara had so recently learned they both needed. Alex had yet to navigate the confusion of feelings, propelled over the surface by only what felt right in the moment.

“When Kara was little …”

“Is this story going to result in another impromptu dip in Tokyo Bay for you?” Kelly whispered surreptitiously glancing at Kara, in repose, the very picture of peaceful slumber. Admittedly Kelly hadn’t expected the visual that greeted her when she’d eased the bedroom door open. She’d left Eliza in the kitchen making tea. It had been such a somber day, and this woman had been the archetype of female strength, weathering it all with such grace. It was a difficult standard to live up to, and the effort Kara and Alex appeared to be painstakingly committing to emulation had been hard to watch. 

Walking into their childhood bedroom finding them so intimate, Kelly immediately understood. And though Alex seemed unsettled by having this truth unexpectedly revealed, she didn’t seem fearful of judgment, just eager to explain.

“No,” Alex chuckled lightly, the movement jostling Kara only minutely. The Kryptonian’s grip was firm even as she slept. Alex ran a hand through Kara’s hair. “No vows to be broken from this particular retelling.”

Kelly sat on the side of the bed, hand resting on Alex’s thigh, just short of where Kara lay draped across Alex’s lap. It hadn’t been a shock seeing Kara’s lips wrapped around Alex’s breast, eyes closed as both of them dozed. Alex had startled awake when Kelly eased the door softly closed, shutting the world outside and keeping this secret cocooned with the three of them. Kelly never baulked. She drew close, sat down and conveyed her reassurance in her presence and her touch. Kara had barely stirred and Alex had quipped that it was ironic that all it took was a breast in Kara’s mouth to dull her super senses.

Though the extempore joke had inspired a mutual smirk of amusement, Kelly knew it would take a great deal more than token effort to put Alex’s mind at ease. Meanwhile Alex remained tensed awaiting judgment, expecting it with the conscious belief that it was well-deserved. After all, adult nursing relationships were summarily regarded as taboo in larger society. Did not most find this activity irreconcilable outside of the context of mother and infant? And yet, the act itself held an undeniable capability to provide a critically effective intervention for someone like Kara. Kara who wrestled competing symptoms of neglect and aversion to touch, her impulsive response to dangerous situations, her desire for control formulated as a self-assigned duty to protect humankind, definitively, diagnostically difficult to ignore. And here, now this discovery, affirming a conclusion Kelly had harbored for some time. 

The trajectory of Kara’s life skirted the precipice of pre-ordained. Her compartmentalized personalities of Supergirl, Kara Zor-El and Kara Danvers bore almost a predictability of outcome to this perfect set of culminating factors. Being a Doctor of Psychiatry does not automatically make you the appointed therapist of every person in your personal life. And Kelly had kept her own counsel even as her keen eye could see early childhood trauma colliding with lack of access to therapeutic treatment options. Similarly thus could she deduce that the loss Kara had suffered must have felt like abandonment and that the secrecy around her identity must have compounded feelings of isolation into symptoms of neglect, albeit benign in nature.

“Tell me.” Kelly prompted. She reached out and Alex grasped her hand gratefully.

“We used to do odd jobs on a few neighboring farms.” Alex began. “That’s life in a farming community. Cheap labor bartered for, you name it. In our case, we started stacking bales of hay and mucking out stables, long before these arms of hers were capable of tying a steel beam into a pretty bow.” Alex hummed at the thought, and remembering she began, “One day, we’re walking home from our neighbor, Andersen’s Farm. It’s about two and half miles down the road. They raise hogs, plant soybeans mostly. I was carrying about twenty pounds of freshly butchered bacon in a tote over my shoulder.” Alex gave Kara an unconscious squeeze. “Kara had run ahead to look at wild flowers.” Alex shook her head negating the assumption she anticipated would pass through Kelly’s thoughts, “She didn’t like to pick them. She just liked to look. She’d memorize every detail.” Alex emphasized, pressing the thumb and index finger of her left hand together as though to demonstrate how diminutive, how precise. “At dinner, when Mom got home, Kara couldn’t wait to recount for us each and every flower she’d seen. And it wasn’t just her recall was perfect,” Alex gestured as though running her hand across a surface, “It was like she was learning to paint them, recreate them with her words.” Alex swallowed, eyes distant, seeing all that Kara had once said from recollection. “Sometimes, she’d tell us about a flower from back on Krypton.”

“It sounds like a beautiful way to spend an evening together as a family.” Kelly smiled gently.

“It was.” Contemplative, Alex continued her story. “This particular day, she’d disappeared around a corner and just as I was about to call out for her to stay in my sight, Kara came flying back to me, just absolutely fucking terrified. I’d never seen that look in her eyes before.” Alex grasped the back of Kara’s head, holding her closer as if in demonstration. “I dropped the bacon immediately, not caring what Mom would say, and caught her in my arms.” Alex held her, looking down at Kara as she had that day, “I told her to hush, be still. I let her see in my eyes that I wasn’t afraid. I let her see that whatever was coming around that corner, would NEVER get to her, not through me.” Alex let go of Kara’s head. Kelly tracked the movement of slender fingers as Alex pointed, noting a faded scar just under Alex’s left breast. “She gripped me so hard, she broke two ribs and I didn’t even notice.” Kelly swallowed, trying to temper her own fear in response to the harrowing tale. 

“What was it that scared her?” 

“Well …” Alex’s expression turned wry. “This was not long after her arrival. She wasn’t in school yet. We were primarily restricted to visiting a handful of neighboring farms and the ice cream parlor in town. Plus Mom was very strict about what kind of media Kara was exposed to at home. Predominantly kids shows on PBS and a few old musicals were the highlight. Its a super sheltered stranger in a strange land, type situation.” Alex bit her lip, “And Andersen had this neighbor, Mr. Bishop, one of those survivalist, hoarder, prepping for the end of the world types. He bought a place out here after making a fortune selling tech stock on a hunch right before the dotcom bust. He was a terrible neighbor because he had these dogs that were constantly getting loose and running away from his compound.” Alex made finger quotes and rolled her eyes in reference to Bishop’s property demarcated by barbed wire. Kelly covered her mouth with her hand, eyes wide in undisguised amusement already understanding where the course of this story was headed.

“When Bishop’s dog came charging at her out of the woods, Kara just didn’t realize exactly what it was she was being confronted by having never seen a dog in person and having only Toto from the Wizard of Oz as a reference. It’s difficult to connect the dots that a 350 pound animal that comes up to your shoulder flat-footed isn’t a predator.” 

“No.” Kelly murmured, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Actually yes,” Alex confirmed, with a heavily amused eye roll. ”English Mastiff, barking like his tale was on fire.” Alex giggled a moment then, “Kara legit tried to climb inside of my body to get away from him.” Grinning at the memory, she recounted further, “She’s hyperventilating and I’m simultaneously trying to calm both her and King, according to the tag around his massive neck, who by that point had found the bacon on the ground and lost entirely all interest in chasing Kara.” The sound of Kelly’s soft laughter only made Alex’s smile widen. “Kara wouldn’t let go. She just held on and held on.” Alex shook her head, “And there was no convincing her in the moment that King was not demonstrably a savage predator after watching him finish off that entire twenty pound slab of pork - even when he nonchalantly trotted off down the road licking those fat chops.”

“Sounds like king was an apt name choice.” Kelly remarked.  
“That dog was about as insufferable as Mr. Bishop. On occasion he’d wander as far as our farm and harass our chickens. I’d go outside to run him off and he’d just ignore me and continue as though he owned the place. But as soon as Mom got home, he’d obediently hop in the back of the truck without her even having to scold him. She’d give him a treat, rub his enormous head and drive him back to Bishop’s.” Alex tilted her head, her expression conveying complete disbelief at the nerve of that dog. “And let me tell you, it was damn near impossible to pry Kara out of the house if King was on the prowl.” Alex laughed, Kelly joining her. “She’d hole up in this room all day, one hundred percent certain she was prime on the menu for his next meal.”

“And the scar?” Kelly inquired, she reached out to run her fingers tentatively over the line of raised flesh. “Most surgeons believe rib-plating to be an unnecessary intervention, especially back then.”

“Yes, well.” Alex shrugged, ruefully. “Punctured lung. Carrying Kara the walk home, aggravated the injury. And I was so worried Mom would be pissed about the bacon, I tried to hide the whole thing from her. I told her we didn’t even go to Andersen's farm and she assumed I had forgotten.” Alex gave a short, self-deprecating laugh, “Just managed to get a different version of her lecture on being responsible than the one I would have if I led with - sorry Mom a dog at the bacon.” Alex covered Kelly’s hand with her own, halting the soft caressing motion. “I went to bed early and almost drowned in my sleep. Kara tried to wake me up; and when she couldn’t, she woke up Mom, told her my heart sounded wrong.” Alex rolled her eyes comically and sniffled when several tears slipped down her cheeks. “I don’t know why I’m crying.” Kelly smiled, eyes meeting Alex’s gaze. She reached out taking Alex’s damp cheeks in tender hands, let thumbs brush softly under Alex’s eyes. 

“Maybe because you’ve been holding those tears in all day.”

“She’s saved my life so many times, Kel.” Alex whispered hoarsely. She tried to swallow around the tears, tried to salvage the distance she’d been practicing all day. “There’s only so much I can do to make her feel safe.” Breath hitching, Alex cradled Kara as best she could in the curve of her right arm, and completing the circle, placed her left hand over Kelly’s. She turned her cheek against their clasped hands, letting her lips settle in the pocket of Kelly’s soft palm. “I can do this.” She whispered, each word a kiss against Kelly’s skin. “Especially right now, when it feels fatal, this old wound tearing open again.”

“Love, you have all of us to hold you together.” Kelly promised. “Neither of you have to survive this alone.” Leaning in, Kelly pressed their foreheads together to whisper, “And I promise, you will survive it.”

When Kara eventually woke, it was to the sound of the additional and unexpected cadence of Kelly’s heartbeat, slow and steady in slumber. Kara blinked across the gulf of Alex’s collar bones, watching Kelly’s nose wrinkle, eyelashes fluttered in dreaming and felt a growing wave of panic in recognition of what Kelly had undoubtedly witnessed. Kara had little context for this latest evolution in her relationship with Alex. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment at the thought of being so observed in her need but not because it felt lewd. Nor did she fear condemnation. Kryptonians weren’t a mammalian species strictly speaking and the concept of suckling was as foreign as any other uniquely human activity with which Kara had come to be acquainted during her time on Earth. For those activities which were not implicitly harmful to others or explicitly criminal, Kara bore negligible interest to subjectively relative constructs around indecency. Thus, much of what she knew, trusted, embraced was relegated to feelings, the closeness she felt, a bond intensified by this physical connection she and Alex had never before shared.

Careful not to wake either woman, Kara extracted herself from under her sister’s arm. Protective even in sleep, Kara thought, smiling when Alex seemed momentarily disturbed at her absence then settled as if sensing no danger. Kara floated from the room, opening and closing the door silently. She drifted downstairs, calculating how many sandwiches she could ostensibly make with the supplies she’d spied in the pantry earlier. Half a jar of peanut butter was not going to stretch very far, she concluded. Her stomach rumbled tacit agreement.

She turned the corner into the kitchen to find Eliza already hard at work on a half completed platter of sandwiches.

“Kelly and I stopped at the grocers on the way back from the wake.” Eliza nodded indicating the freshly opened jar of peanut butter sitting next to a jar she’d already finished off. “There’s a gallon of whole milk in the fridge and plenty of that organic chocolate sauce you like.”

Kara paused on her way to the refrigerator to wrap her arms around Eliza from behind. She planted a kiss on the woman’s cheek, holding on as Eliza continued to baste thick helpings of peanut butter on fresh sliced bread.

“Love you, Mama.” It wasn’t a term she’d used often with Eliza. It was not because she saw it as a betrayal. On Earth, Eliza was indisputably her mother. On Krypton, Alura, her jeju was, well the meaning didn’t translate on Earth. Not life-giver, not matriarch, not house elder, not female genetic relation and caregiver, it was all of those things certainly, but far more. In the old texts, a home, much like faith, was built on pillars that were prioritized individually by house. The great house of El was built on the pillar of Justice, the pillar of Rao’s light, and the pillar of the matriarchal lines which fed the house. Alura In-Ze came from a matriarchal line that predated the ancient founding houses of Krypton. Her role stretched beyond the concept of mother in the human sense, a context so entangled with childbirth or child-rearing. If it had been so simple as a relatively closely paired genetic relation and the stewardship of a youngling out of the creche, then Astra was as much her mother as Alura had been.

“Love you too, baby girl.” Eliza paused in her work, to dab at her eyes with the corner of her apron then rubbed Kara’s arms with affection. After another moment, Kara relinquished her hug to go rummage through the refrigerator. She grabbed the milk, chocolate sauce and also a jar of pickles. Eliza’s eyebrows rose as Kara deposited it all on the butcher block style kitchen island. Kara just shrugged.

“You’re supposed to have pickles with sandwiches.” She pointed out as though it was obvious and started mixing chocolate sauce and milk in a pitcher, forgoing the noise of a blender for a whisk. The action of her arm blurred as she mentally counted the number of rotations because truly tasty chocolate milk could only be achieved through precision. She made a noise of triumphant appreciation at the thick frothy concoction she produced as she added a blast of chilled air from between pursed lips.

“Get a glass.” Eliza prompted without even looking before Kara could tip the pitcher up to her mouth.

“Fine.” Kara huffed, zipping to the cupboard and back. She picked the largest plastic tumbler in the house. It was, for all intents and purposes, a comically supersized slushee cup from the local convenience store. She managed to fit all but the dregs of the pitcher into the cup. She took a swig and sent a chocolate-moustache grin Eliza’s way then grabbed a sandwich from the platter. She chewed happily, balanced on the edge of a stool amd watched Eliza finish up otherwise in silence. 

“Kelly says she’ll head back with J’onn tomorrow morning.” Eliza murmured absently as she set to clearing up crumbs and washing the few implements she’d used to make Kara’s midnight snack.

“But Alex and I are going to stay for a few days.” Kara mumbled around a mouthful of food. Eliza shot her a disapproving look. Kara chewed, swallowed, and offered a sheepish, “Sorry.”

“You girls cannot abandon your responsibilities.” Eliza paused, tiiredly rubbing a hand across her brow. “I’ll be fine, sweetheart.”

“Nothing’s more important than family.” Kara replied, “We want to be here, with you.”

“Well, you know I always love it when my girls are home.” Eliza capitulated, her smile no less bright for being a bit watery. “And there are a few things that might need attention around the farm.”

“I’ll start tomorrow.” Kara promised, feeling as she had some years ago now, sitting at this table in the middle of the night. How many midnight snacks had Eliza made? How many promises and I Love You’s had passed between them? On her way out of the kitchen, Eliza stopped to place a kiss on Kara’s temple. She rested her cheek there a moment, hand cradling the crown of Kara’s head. Kara closed her eyes, listened to Eliza breathe deeply, in and out, before repeating one more quick kiss, ticklish against Kara’s hairline. “Night baby. Don’t stay up too late.” Eliza’s footsteps were familiar as an echo, tracing her way upstairs and down the hall to the master bedroom. 

Driven by a breathless spasm under her breast, a pressure far more physical than could be mistaken for nostalgia, Kara collected the rest of her meal and relocated to the roof of the barn. The night was cool, comfort in its easy whispers. All its relations, Kara had come to know, gathered under the stars. This had been the vantage point of her youth, a perspective which consumed untold moments and hours uncounted. Here she had been so deliberately attentive. For the ashes of her planet, and nearly every person she’d known, drifted up there. And those nights of this solitary vigil had often afforded some minor respite from feeling imminently alone. But in the blinking of her eye, dawn would pierce that illusion and let it crumble under the sun, dispersed by cardinal rays. And while so much felt irreparably shattered, this life, inevitably, if imperceptibly, trundled on.


End file.
